At 8 a.m., it was already 101 °F indoors. The waiting room, adorned with posters proclaiming the primacy of marital fidelity, was filled with couples whose physical appearance confirmed the clinical pattern I had come to examine every day. Sick men presented with advanced disease accompanied by their still-asymptomatic wives whose own disease status remained unknown. Patients camped out on the hospital grounds. Entire families came by bus and train to the big city a few times a year for treatment so that nobody back home would know about their disease. In the best of scenarios, their suffering remained an enigma back in the village.